Authors: Daniel Arenson
She entered the Cured
Temple and walked down its halls. Priests and servants knelt before her, and
she ignored them, marching forward, eyes staring straight ahead, blood staining
her priceless white armor, blood staining her soul. She walked until she
entered the chamber and closed the door behind her, and then she closed her
eyes, and she fell to her knees, and she had to clench her fists and hold her
breath to stop her tears.
A soft, gurgling sound
rose through her pain.
She opened her eyes,
rose to her feet, and walked toward the crib. Baby Eliana lay within, staring
up at her, smiling.
Mercy lifted the babe
and held her in her arms. She examined the child—the wide hazel eyes, the soft
brown hair.
"The moment Cade
fled me, Eliana, I vowed to protect you," Mercy whispered. "When I
burned his village down, I had to save you, and I still fight for you. I will
drive this blade into the hearts of ten thousand infants, and I will watch
forests and cities burn, before I see you come to harm. You are mine now,
Eliana. You are my daughter now." She squeezed the baby tightly,
desperately, and tears coursed down Mercy's cheeks. "You are mine. You are
mine. You are always mine. Always. I swear. I swear."
The baby screamed,
crushed in the embrace. Mercy held her daughter close, her tears falling,
wanting to never let go.
GEMINI
At midnight, he stumbled out of his
cell, bearded, shivering, clad in bloody rags, and free.
He left his chains
behind.
The torturer stood in
the dark corridor, staring with hard eyes.
"When will I get
my treasure?" the man asked, crossing his hairy arms. His toolbox lay at
his feet, including the pliers which had ripped off Gemini's fingernail. Gemini
shivered to see it.
"Once the Temple
is mine," Gemini whispered, lips cracked, tongue dry like a strip of leather.
"Once my mother and sister are dead."
He sucked in breath,
imagining it. How wonderful it would be! He would plunge the blade into their
backs himself, hear the breath gush out of their mouths, feel the hot blood
splash him. This was no work for an assassin; he would do the work himself.
Perhaps he would kill Domi too. Perhaps he would make love to her one last
time, then kill her. Or maybe the other way around. Yes. That would please him.
All women are cruel,
he thought, fists trembling.
All women are backstabbers.
His mother had
tormented him since his birth. His sister had always looked down at him as if
he were a maggot. And Domi . . . Domi was the worst of them all, the whore who
had slipped into his bed for his money, for his power, then left him to rot in
this dungeon. She would pay. They all would pay. They—
"Waiting for
another guard to show up?" the torturer said and smirked. "Go kill
the daughters of dogs. I want my treasure."
"Oh, you'll have
your treasure," Gemini said. "Maybe I'll give you a weredragon. Domi
would make a good prize for you."
The guard sneered and
raised a hammer. "You said money."
"Money you shall
have too." Gemini began to walk, taking shaky steps across the corridor. "Make
your own way out of the city. Wait for me in Oldnale at the windmill. Once
Beatrix and Mercy are dead and my reign is secure, I will come to you."
The torturer grabbed
Gemini's shoulder and squeezed, forcing him back. "Slay them now! Tonight!"
Gemini stared at the
brute and shuddered. The man was twice his size, and the blood of countless
victims stained his apron. "I can't slay them tonight! Are you mad? Do you
have any idea how many soldiers guard them? You think Beatrix and Mercy would
let me just show up with a dagger in my hand? I must first gather my allies, regain
my strength, muster my resources, arrange my forces for attack, and—"
The torturer's hand
squeezed tighter. Gemini grimaced; he thought the man would shatter his
shoulder. "Tonight. Kill them." The brute drew a knife from his belt
and handed it to Gemini. "Use this blade. I did not free you to run and
hide like a dog. I will not wait. I demand my treasure. Tonight!"
Gemini stared at the
dagger. He gulped. "But . . . the guards . . ."
"You are their
paladin! They will obey you." The torturer shoved the dagger's hilt into
Gemini's hand. "Kill the High Priestess tonight. If you cannot, I will
return you to your cell, and I will make you scream." The guard's lips
peeled back in a hideous smile, revealing yellow teeth. "I will start by
crushing your manhood with my pincers, then move to shattering the segments of
your spine, one by one. Perhaps I will cut off your fingers next."
Gemini held the dagger
with a shaky hand. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging. His knees knocked. "I
. . ." He gulped. "I . . ."
How could he do this . . . tonight? He had planned to escape first, perhaps with a few of the loyal
firedrakes. To find allies in other cities, to raise an army, to fly back as a
general, to seize the city with great force and might. How could he get past a
hundred guards tonight, alone, clad in rags, a haggard prisoner with a mere knife
for a weapon?
"Go." The
torturer sneered and raised his pliers. "Go now. Do it. Kill them. If you
cannot, I will drag you back into your cell, and we'll get to work. How would
you like to lose more fingernails? How about losing your entire fingers? Your
nose? Your entrails? Your skin? I can take them all from you and keep you
alive. Kill them! Now! I demand my prize."
Gemini was shaking
wildly. He almost dropped his dagger. Stars, he had to do it tonight. He had
to! He would have to attack all the guards, even if he died assaulting his
mother's chambers. And surely he would die. Yet death was better than torture,
wasn't it? But . . . he needed his revenge. He needed—
"You will not go?"
The torturer reached out to grab Gemini's shoulder. "Very well. Your pain
continues. Your—"
Gemini screamed, a howl
that tore through his throat, that echoed through the dungeon, that brought
blood to his lips, and as he screamed he thrust his dagger.
The blade slammed into
the torturer's cheek, scraped across the bone, and drove through the eyeball
and into the skull.
Gemini tugged the
dagger back with a spray of blood.
The torturer stood for
a second longer, then crashed down.
Gemini spat on him.
"More meanness
than brains to you." He stared at bits of brain on the blade. "Definitely
not much brains anymore."
His voice cracked and
he stumbled back, shaking violently. Sweat washed him, and he had to lean over
and breathe deeply, struggling not to pass out. It was the first time he had
killed.
"But I will kill
many more times," he whispered. "I will kill you all. All those who
hurt me."
The prisoners in the
other cells were laughing. Laughing at him. Gemini straightened and ran,
wobbling, through the dungeon. He ran out the door, up the stairs, into the
palace hall, out the back door into the night. He stumbled down the stairs into
the city, and he laughed, and his head spun, and he stretched out his arms. He
breathed the fresh cold air. He was free. He was powerful. He was Gemini Deus,
future High Priest of the Cured Temple.
"Firedrake,"
he whispered, still laughing, still crying. "I need a firedrake."
He would fly for now.
He would flee for now. And he would return with the might of a god.
CADE
He stood on the hill, the wind
whipping his burlap tunic, and lowered his head. His fists clenched at his
sides, and his eyes stung.
They're dead. So
many dead. Because of me.
The village nestled in
the valley miles away, its lanterns glowing in the sunset. Even from this
distance, Cade heard the mournful wails. All across the Commonwealth they cried
out in agony. Angels of death had flown across the realm, and now parents—grieving,
crying out—buried the innocents, buried the slain, buried a generation.
"We wanted you to
grow into Vir Requis," Cade whispered, staring at the land. "We
wanted you to grow with your magic, to become dragons of Requiem." He
closed his eyes. "Now your light will never shine."
The wind gusted, and
Cade did not hear anyone approach, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. He
turned to see Domi standing on the hill, her hair billowing in the wind like a
torch's flame. The setting sun reflected in her eyes.
"It's our fault,"
Cade whispered to her. "All those dead babes . . . if the Temple still had
tillvine, they'd purify them. They would lose their magic, but they'd live."
His fists shook. "Now they're dead, all of them, and still dying every
day, every moment. Because of us." His throat tightened, squeezing his
voice into a hoarse whisper. "Because of us."
Domi pried open his
fingers and held his hands. She stood staring into his eyes. "We could not
have known. We did what we thought was right."
Cade laughed
mirthlessly. "Those who meant well have kindled some of history's greatest
wildfires. Good intentions have spilled as much blood as devious plans." Tears
burned in his eyes. "Oh, Domi . . . what have we done?"
He expected her to
embrace him, to stroke his hair, to whisper into his ear. But instead Domi
snarled and her eyes flashed.
"We did nothing!"
She pulled her hands back and glared at him. "Do not place this blame on
me, on yourself, on any of us. We did not sink our knives into the hearts of
babes. Mercy did that. Mercy and her fellow paladins. The only blame is on
them, and I will not allow you, Cade, to feel guilt, and I will not allow you
to spread your guilt among us. Blame the Cured Temple. Fight the Cured Temple.
Keep fighting. I will."
"Fighting for
Requiem," Cade said, and the words tasted bitter in his mouth. "Domi,
I never wanted this fight. I just . . . I just wanted to be a baker. I never
wanted any of this." He held his head. "Not to lose Derin and Tisha
and my sister. Not to run, hide, get captured, learn that Beatrix is my mother.
Fight for Requiem? I never knew what Requiem was until a few months ago."
Domi dug her
fingernails into his hands. "Well, you know what Requiem is now. And you
can't go back to being a baker. So you have a choice now, Cade. You can either
let guilt, grief, and regret overpower you, or you can keep fighting. Do you
think I wanted this?" She barked out a laugh. "I never wanted this
war. All I wanted was to live as a dragon, a firedrake in disguise, to fly
free. Do you think Roen wanted this? All he wanted was to live in a forest with
his father. That father is dead now. The Temple forced this war on us. The
Temple killed these infants. So now, yes, I will fight. Will you?"
Two shadows climbed the
hill to join Domi and Cade. The sunset fell on Roen, bearded and dour, wrapped
in his furs. He stared at Cade, eyes dark. Fidelity stood beside the forester,
one of her spectacles' lenses still missing, clad in her old vest with the
brass buttons. She too stared at Cade.
"Why do you all
look at me?" Cade said. "What do you want me to say?"
Fidelity stepped closer
and touched his shoulder. "Just one word: Requiem."
Domi nodded. "Requiem,"
she whispered.
Roen grumbled under his
breath, and his fists clenched and unclenched, but then he raised his chin and
spoke in a deep, clear voice. "Requiem."
Cade stared at them one
by one. Fellow Vir Requis. His friends. The only people he had left, the only
people who understood. Yes. He would fight with them.
"Requiem," he
said. He closed his eyes, thinking of the first time he had heard that word:
the feeling of holiness, of magic, of home. He could not abandon the dream of
Requiem, not even as blood washed the world. He took a deep, shuddering breath
and looked at his companions again. "I don't know how I can keep fighting.
I don't know what to do. But I will not forget our kingdom, our magic. We will
keep Requiem alive."
GEMINI
He burst out of the stables at
dawn, riding his sister's firedrake.
"Fly, Felesar!"
he cried, laughing. "Fly!"
The burly copper beast,
among the oldest and largest of the firedrakes, beat his wings and soared over
the city of Nova Vita. His scales clattered like a suit of armor, and his wings
creaked. Fire flickered out of his great maw.
"Fly south! Fly,
Felesar!" Gemini wore no spurs, but he pounded his heels into the animal's
tenderspots.
With beating wings,
they soared higher, flying across the city of Nova Vita. The temple shone
behind them, and countless domed huts sprawled out below. Streets crawled
across the city like spiderwebs. The rising sun glowed behind a veil of clouds,
and a flock of pigeons flew below.
Gemini expected battle—hordes
of firedrakes and archers on the roofs. He expected to fight his way out of the
city with fire, blood, and screams. But no enemies emerged. The firedrakes who
perched on the city walls merely glanced up at him, then back toward the
horizons. Guards stared up, then returned to their patrols. All here could
recognize Felesar, a fabled firedrake, the oversized copper mount of the Deus
Family.
They don't know,
Gemini realized.
The guards, the drakes . . . they don't know that it's me,
or they don't even know that I was imprisoned.
He laughed as he flew
over the walls and across the fields. He tossed back his head and breathed
deeply of the sweet, cold air, and he kept laughing.
"I'm free."
His grin hurt his cheeks. "I'm free and I stole Mercy's favorite pet, and
I'll never let them hurt me again." He ground his teeth, forcing himself
to keep laughing; to stop laughing meant to weep. "I will be the one
hurting them."
He still wore the same
housecoat he had been imprisoned with. His face was stubbly, his hair a mess,
and more stubble grew on the left side of his head—the side paladins normally
shaved every morning. He would need to shave it. He would need armor. He would
need weapons. He would need aid.